The dark shadow
by Marlean
Summary: It's been three years since the events at the Garnier opera took place. Life goes on and Christine has toured the world with her voice. Now the're back in Paris and a shadow is watching over her. Leroux based and Christine Nilsson inspired.
1. The shadow

Disclaimer: I do not own the gorgeous characters of the Phantom of the opera. They all belong to Gaston Leroux. Read his original story first to give him the honor and respect he deserves. The Christine's in my stories are often loosely based on the Swedish opera singer Christine Nilsson, who was the inspiration for Christine Daaé.

-The Shadow-

It had been three years since the events in the house by the lake.  
>Three years of married bliss for Christine and her dear Raoul. Christine and Raoul had gone on a big tour and Christine had sung at some of the biggest opera houses in Europe. She had sung in front of kings and queens and even the Russian tsar! The tsar had given her real jewels in the jewel box she had on stage during the jewel aria and the crowd had thrown small bouquets of violets on to the stage after Faust was finished. She had been overwhelmed, but like all trips they knew it would have to end. Raoul had to get back to Paris to get their finances in order. During the trip he had somewhat become Christine's manager and she entrusted him with her wages. Christine had grown tired of the trips and the long days on the road. In the beginning it had been exited to see all the different countries, eat the exotic new food and it had felt a bit like a paid honeymoon. But after the years went by the excitement faded, and they were both ready to settle down again. They had put the past behind them. Now Christine had a new contract with Theatre Lyrique in Paris and she was to sing there three times a week. They got a nice flat on Rue de Rivoli with a nice, pretty view of the Tuileries. Christine wanted them to start a family but Raoul was afraid that it would ruin her career. Whenever she tried talking to him about it he always replied the same thing.<p>

"Please my darling Christine, you must understand that a child now is too soon. We have to earn more money so we can be set for life. I have heard about a new investment, it's going to make us lots of money, but we need a bigger stake in this if we are going to make it big, but we will my darling, don't worry, we will!"

Then he took her in his arms and kissed her and she would usually think that he was right and she might be too foolish when it came to money matters after all. Raoul only wanted what was best for them and of course she wanted a good life too, especially if they were to have a baby. Also she knew she couldn't be a singer all her life. She was getting older, and new competitors entered the stage each season. The people wanted to see the new, not the old. But she was still popular and the talk of town.

"I'm off to the bank, Christine."

"What?"

"I need to go see to our investments of course!"

"Yes, of course dear."

Christine sighed and knew she had another lonely evening and night ahead of her. Raoul and the other investors and bankers usually went out for cigars after their important talks, and women were not allowed.

He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and then left. Christine sat down with a book, but after the clock on the mantelpiece struck six their young servant Agnès came in and asked if there were anything else Madame wanted for the night.

"No thank you Agnès, that will be all."

The young servant curtsied and then also left the house. Christine was surrounded by silence. She got up and started walking around the rooms. She wound up the clock in the mantelpiece and compared her pocket watch to it, even though it was unnecessary. She then checked to see if Agnès had dusted properly above the paintings they owned, but there were nothing to complain about, everything was impeccable. She checked the watch again, it was just after seven o clock, and Raoul wouldn't be home until after midnight. She wished Raoul had told her about this meeting earlier so she might have sent out some invites to some of her patrons so she wouldn't have to spend the evening alone. But it was too late for that now. Instead she did something she hadn't done in years. She went to the box that held her father's precious violin. She put the instrument to her cheek and wondered if it would still sound like it used to. It needed some adjustments but soon the tune of an old Swedish folk song filled the room and it brought a smile to her face. She let the music fill her senses and started to hum along with the tune, while she took some dancing steps too. Oh, it had been a while ago since she had played any instrument, but now she wondered why she didn't do it more often. All of a sudden she heard the front door open and then close with a loud noise. Christine stopped playing and put the violin down.

"Raoul?" She walked towards the front door.

"Raoul is that you?"

If that was her husband she could barely recognize him. His clothes were dirty and he smelled of alcohol. His blue eyes couldn't focus properly and he spoke almost in a slur.

"It's ruined! We're ruined!" Christine hurriedly rushed to his side.

"What's wrong Raoul? What's happened?"

"We're ruined! It's all gone!"

"What's gone?"

"Our money! The stock that looked so promising, that I knew would make us set for life is… is… is no more." Raoul broke down in loud sobs on the floor.

"Come now my sweet Raoul, it can't be that bad?" Christine tried pulling him up from the floor by his arm.

"Oh, but it is, it is! I even borrowed money to invest. It was supposed to be a sure thing. Now we're bankrupt. We have nothing! Nothing I tell you!"

Christine couldn't believe her ears. They were bankrupt! After three years on the road and no extravagant lifestyle they had lost everything on a, what did he call it? Stock?

"Surely we must have some money left? I got some wages from London just the other day…"

"I've used it all! All for trying to make _your_ dream come true about having a family. Oh woe me… "

Christine felt tears running down her cheeks and didn't know what to do, she let go of Raoul and sat down heavily in a chair. She shook her head. All those years, all those concerts… and it was all gone? Her dream of having a family one day had never seemed further away than it did at that moment.

"Oh Raoul, what are we going to do?"

"If I just had some more money I would invest it in another stock that I know will make it, but no one wants to borrow me money in Paris anymore. Not even my own family!"

Christine's eyes grew wide. She had no idea he had borrowed money from his family too. He never spoke to her about these things. Money was not for her to worry her sweet little head about, he had said. And now they were ruined!

"How much do we owe?"

"Oh, 65 000 Francs perhaps, I don't know… It was supposed to be the sure thing!"

"I see." 65 000 Francs was a huge amount of money, and she bet there would be an interest on that sum as well.

"Oh the headache I have, let's not speak about it anymore Christine! I need to go to bed. "

Raoul dragged himself up from the floor and somehow managed to get to their bedroom and close the door behind him. Christine felt unable to move. She sat in her chair for a long while and lost track of time with a blank stare on her face. They had lost everything on the stock market. Why had Raoul placed all their money on one stock? Everything she had worked so hard for! And her dream of starting a family… now it was all gone. Everything! The tears fell down her face again but she didn't notice until she felt something wet fall down on her hands. She then took a handkerchief and tried to dry off her face but the tears just wouldn't stop coming. She knew she had to calm down, she was supposed to sing tomorrow night and she needed to get some rest. But how was one supposed to even think about sleep in such a state?  
>All of a sudden she heard something outside the back window and glad to have something to distract her from her own dark thoughts she thankfully looked up. She thought it might be a bird that settled down for the night. But at first she saw nothing in the darkness outside. It was just like any other evening. But then all of a sudden she saw a movement. Like a shadow just to the left of the balcony. She squinted her eyes trying to get a better look of it and got up from her chair but just as quickly as it had made itself known, the shadow disappeared again. 'That's strange' she thought 'we live on the third floor, if it had been a bird, wouldn't it be trying to find a place to rest for the night on the top floor or in a tree somewhere?' She went up to the window and looked out, but the night was all still now. There was not a bird in sight. She sighed and decided she needed to get at least some rest before tomorrow, so she blew out the lamp and reluctantly got herself ready for a night of mostly staring up in the ceiling.<p>

Erik was dead. That was what the ad had said in the Epoque three years earlier. And he was dead he thought, inside. Heartbroken and lonely he had starved himself for weeks, trying to end his miserable, lonely life. He refused to use the Punjab lasso made of cat gut, but he tried to starve himself, and one time he even tried drowning himself, but unsuccessfully so. He had dragged himself up above and decided to stay alive. Then he decided not to give up on Christine. Even if she had decided to not have him in her life, he would still be there for her. Be her guardian angel if she ever needed him. He would stand watch over her, he would follow her all around the world if he had to.

Erik cursed himself for slipping on Christine's wet balcony. He always tried to be cautious when checking up on her. He had tried to leave her alone after she left him but he was physically unable to do so. Instead he had seen her and Raoul in their newlywed bliss from afar. He didn't mind the tour travels. After all, hadn't he travelled most of his life? He loved to hear her sing at the big opera houses. He had even heard her beautiful triumph Christine had done in front of the tsar. But now he had seen her crying after what seemed to be a fight with Raoul, he then became careless and had tried to get a better look through the window when he had slipped. Christine had looked up, her eyes still wet her tears and her blonde locks being like a gloria around her head. But luckily he had been able to get out of the way just in time. He wasn't part of her life anymore. She mustn't know he was there. She had made her choice. She must never ever know.


	2. Madness

Disclaimer: I wish I owned the characters, but sadly I don't, Gaston Leroux does.

-Madness-

The days went by and Christine tried desperately to get the opera managers to allow her to sing more times per week, so she could earn more money even though she knew it would strain her voice.

"Please monsieurs! What if I sing Faust on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and La Traviata on Tuesdays and Thursdays?"

The managers of Theatre Lyrique only laughed at her requests and said that the rest of the company would refuse to sing five times per week and jokingly asked her if she hadn't thought about becoming a ballerina instead?

Saddened she left the opera and walked down the street. She was approached by a flower girl but after quickly checking her purse, she realized she couldn't even afford a single flower. She declined the offer with a sad smile, cast a long last look at the flowers and continued her way back home. She didn't notice the strange looking man with a black moustache and a felt hat following her about twenty steps behind, but others did. He stopped when she stopped, pretending to look into a shop window or pretending to have to tie his shoe, and the strangest thing about him was that you couldn't see his eyes properly. The girl selling flowers first wanted to ignore him, but he stopped her in the middle of the sidewalk and bought her entire basket of flowers before she had time to walk by. There were flowers for over 10 Francs in that basket so she made a small fortune that day, and the man continued on his way, walking the same way the lady she had approached earlier did, towards Rue de Rivoli.

Erik had no idea why he had bought the flowers.  
>Maybe it was because he had seen Christine's longing look towards them. Maybe it was because he recognized that look from when she once had known him only as a voice in her room. Three years had gone by and he had never made himself known. He couldn't destroy that now. 'I will just give them to her, anonymously, that's all I'll do. She will never know a thing.' he thought. Outside her door he placed the flower basket on her doorstep, rang the bell and then quickly disappeared out of sight.<p>

Christine had just taken off her shawl when she heard the door bell ring. It was Agnès day off so she opened the door, but didn't see anyone there. Instead on her doorstep there was the entire basket of flowers the flower girl had tried to sell a rose from earlier. There were roses, daisies, violets, all kinds of flowers. She picked the lovely flowers up and inhaled their lovely scent. Who was the generous donor, she wondered? Was it Raoul who felt ashamed over what had happened last night? No surely not, for they didn't have a single centimes to spare on something so perishable as flowers. Maybe a loyal fan of the opera? She had had lots of flowers sent to her dressing room but never to her private apartment before. She looked up and down the street but nothing seemed out of the ordinary so she took the flowers in while looking in vain for a card among them. She placed the beautiful basket on the dining room table. It truly was a beautiful, and generous gift. She smiled but then reality of their position struck her again. She opened her purse again. Just 4 Francs and 8 centimes would have to last her two weeks. She closed her eyes and struggled to keep sane. What better song to sing other than that of Ophelia? She sang the song of madness and heartache and felt even sadder if that was possible. She knew her voice wasn't what it once was. What she knew it could have been if she had continued her studies with Erik.  
>Erik.<br>That name that she hadn't allowed herself to think for so long, even to herself.  
>Erik was dead. There was nothing to go back to. She had to stop thinking about that part of her life. He didn't exist anymore.<br>But what had happened to her life? To all of her dreams? To say the least things hadn't gone as she had hoped and planned for. She had no family now, and she felt lonely. Mama Valerius had passed away, and Raoul's family still didn't accept her. A singer was in their eyes still a bad match for their precious Raoul. It didn't matter one bit that they were married now. They still didn't talk to her and they ignored her if she was in the same room with them. She always felt inferior to their inherited class. As a famous singer she had also realized that the job gave her lost of acquaintances but very few friends. Her old friend La Sorelli had married a rich patron and left for Italy. They stayed in touch with a few letters every now and then, but she was lonely most of the day. She had asked Raoul once if they couldn't send for one of her nieces in Sweden to keep her company during the days when he was away, but he had always refused. She had asked him to be able to go visit her older brother in Sweden too, but Raoul didn't think they ever had the time.

After a lonely lunch and an even lonelier dinner she settled in the sofa with a book, but after a while she realized that she had read the same page four times and she felt a bit uneasy. Almost as if someone was watching her. She didn't raise her head but started to analyze the feeling she had. Was she going mad? She knew there was no one at home and she lived on the third floor, for Christ's sake! Once again she tried reading the sentence on the top of the page, but the unnerving feeling wouldn't go away. A slight movement caught her eye but she couldn't tell where it was from. It made the hair rise on her arms and she felt a chill down her spine. She tried to steal glances from around the room, but everything in it looked the same.  
>There was no change. The furniture was where it always was. The flowers were still on the table. Not even the candles flickered. The curtains didn't move. Outside the stars were shining. Especially two stars that glowed stronger than the others, in a sort of yellow light. She raised her head in order to figure out what star constellation they were from but as soon as she did that they both went out. Was it? She dropped the book to the floor and rushed up to the window. Could it have been? She struggled to get the window open in the half dim light, but when it finally opened she heard nothing. Just a horse carriage down in the street.<br>"Erik?" she had tried to say out loud but the name came out in a whisper. She tried again "Erik was that you?" Since there was nothing more than the wind and silence to reply her she reluctantly closed the window again and was just about to return to her seat when she turned again and looked up into the sky. It had been a clear day but the evening was cloudy and there were no stars showing in the sky. 'I'm going mad' she thought. 'This is madness, Erik died three years ago.' But no matter how hard she tried to explain the strange yellow stars she had seen outside her window, she just couldn't.

She went to bed early that night and she fell asleep quickly. She didn't wake up when a shadow silently was standing beside her, watching her. A glowed hand moved hesitantly towards her blonde hair, but stopped halfway there, and instead fell to the silent shadow's side. A small sigh was all that was heard in the room before the shadow disappeared as silently as it had appeared.  
>She also didn't wake up when Raoul got home later that night and laid down beside her, putting his arm around her.<p> 


End file.
